Flying on waxen wings
by OakeX
Summary: Because we all know how this story ends. Oneshot.


**Gosh, who doesn't love phrases which have the word 'wax' in it? I don't know why, but I have a strange attraction to any saying that has the word 'wax' in it. Like the fact that the _wax_ in Icarus' wings melted. Or the phrase 'wax poetic'. Man, I'm weird.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Sisters Grimm.**

* * *

The touch of his lips on her is enough to send fire trailing down her spine. Shivering, whimpering almost, as heat ripples across her bones and two muscular arms draw her closer, she thinks she may be in love.

She says just that, and he kisses her neck.

They join.

And then two months later he leaves, and the gust of his wings blows the flame out.

...

A storm roils inside her, and trapped as it is within her she fears she may crumble to pieces.

Because his absence... it hurts her.

Because his absence... it infuriates her.

Her heart splinters itself to pieces and then instantly welds itself back together; her eyes flash red under the haze of her tears.

So now she's some toxic cocktail of emotions that were never meant to mix together, and as she lies alone in bed clutching her head, so thunderclap-snarls echo within her eardrums, and lightning bolts burst light-tears on her eyelids.

The moon rises, and she cries.

But ...

Under the pressure of reality, her anger eventually hardens. Time passes, and her hurt crystallises into something more solid— her storm compresses into a rock (a handhold).

He doesn't come back, and she accepts that.

Because, after all, what is love?

It is not life.

She thought it was, once, when he had left she had been burdened by the crippling fear that she could not live without him.

Yet here she stands.

Because it is only the immature who believe that _his_ love is all that is good in the world.

And if Sabrina Grimm is one thing now, it is not immature.

...

(She flew, once, or tried to.

She clasped the warm hand of an angel's in hers and soared for the clouds.

But she was just a girl, and he was so much more, and though she longed to touch the stars mortal fingers were not designed for the cosmos.

So under the heat of the sun her waxen wings began to melt, and she fell.

Fell, out of love, out of the sky, with the wind whistling in her ears she dropped

...into warm arms that broke her fall.

Not those of the angel, who continued without noticing her.

She was caught in the arms of her family and her friends, who loved her in ways she never realised until now.

They unbuckled her harness, and she tore off the straps, and on unsteady feet she stood on the solid earth in which she belonged.

Her legs collapsed under her, and she tripped.

They pulled her back up.

She skinned her knees as she walked, and blood welled up on her legs.

They patched her back up.

Always, they were beside her.

And so she walked,

and walked,

and as she walked more her stride lengthened, and as she walked more her pace quickened, and gradually her heart began to beat again in her chest.

She was back to normal, eventually, and then she tired of normal (of course).

So she began to walk faster.

To jog.

And run.

'Til finally she was sprinting, and her legs pumped like pistons as she tore across the earth, flying almost, as adrenaline surged through her veins and her heart slammed wildly against her ribs like a metronomic hammer, like some crazy clock ticking between her lungs telling her _yes, yes, you are living now, you are breathing_.

Yes, indeed, this is life).

...

During the day, her ears will still strain for the sounds of his wingbeats.

And during the night, sometimes, she will still dream of the sound of his heartbeats.

But if he comes back, then things will be different.

Because she will be able to go up to him and ask, _do you love me?_

And when he says, _no_ , then she can smile back and say,

 _neither do I_.

* * *

 **This is probably going to be the last oneshot I post for a while. I'm writing a short multi-chapter (only about eight chapters), and to stop myself from becoming an even more disappointing updater I'm going to write the whole thing out first. I'll update my drabbles more often (God knows I need to), but I probably won't post anything else for a while.**

 **Thanks for reading, guys.**


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